


helpless to the bass and the fading light

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 09:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17660450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: And then she met Charlie.





	helpless to the bass and the fading light

1

Zari swears she falls in love the first time she meets her.

Standing there with a box in her hands, the words “Knock knock” on her lips, as she goes to introduce herself as Zari’s new neighbor. And for a second, standing there, Zari forgets every word in the English language. 

Amaya Jiwe is a goddess in human form.

Spending more time with her only proves that point.

She’s beautiful, perfect, with a smile that seems just reserved for Zari. She’s all prim and proper on the outside, but she smiles with a secret that only Zari gets to know, little hints of a joke underneath it all. She can quote famou poets without even trying, keeps a collection of potted plants on her windowsill, and volunteers at an animal shelter on the weekend.

She’s also straight.

And taken.

Zari wants to hate him at first, she really does, but Nate is a good guy. The sort of guy that helps Zari carry her groceries up the stairs when she buys too many to carry on her own. And who gets them pizza and invites Zari over for video games nights. 

She goes, of course she does, even if her little crush on hurts, because Nate is cool and fun and calls them friends and doesn’t know that Zari has the world’s largest crush on his girlfriend. It’s fun being there, making new friends, when Zari had been so certain that moving to Central City would have meant being friendless and alone for the next four years of graduate school. 

So she pushes her feelings down, smiles and tries to pretend that Amaya isn’t literally the epitome of her type, when the other woman brings them freshly baked cookies on a video game night, and then asks a bunch of questions about the game their playing while seeming to retrain nothing of it.

So she pushes her feelings down when Amaya, brings a succulent over, a small housewarming gift, even though Zari moved into the apartment complex months ago. Talking all about how Zari needs to breathe some life into this place, and do something other than studying all of the time.

So she pushes her feelings down when Amaya is a little drunk and ranting about how she wants to rescue all the cats at the shelter but their landlord won’t let her, all but collapsing against Zari under the weight of it and calling her the  _ best friend she’s ever had  _ like that’s all that’s ever mattered.

She pushes her feelings down again and again and again.

(And then, she meets Charlie.)

  
  
  


2

“Separated at birth,” Charlie says, a touch of drama in her voice. “My long lost twin, it’s all very traumatic.” 

She’s wearing a beat up leather jacket, ripped black skinny jeans, and a pair of combat boots that have certainly seen better days. A sharp contrast to Amaya beside her in a bright yellow sweater with a smile that seems more forced than usual on her face.

“It’s not nearly that traumatic,” Amaya insists. “It’s more like the parent trap if anything. Our parents are divorced.” 

“Oh,” Zari says, because really what else is there to say, other than,  “Well, sorry, for thinking you were Amaya.”

They’re supposed to be drinking tea, making introductions, since Zari had been the one to run into Charlie on the stairs on her way in. Assuming despite the outside that the woman she had bumped into could only be Amaya and immediately launching into a  _ discussion  _ about one of her classes. 

Charlie had cut her off within seconds with a  _ “I’m not Amaya,” _ that was so harsh and sudden that Zari had been caught off guard.

And when then  _ real Amaya  _ appeared a moment later to offer tea and introductions Zari had been too polite to say no.

Now she wishes she had.

That way she wouldn’t have to sit here sandwiched between the two most beautiful women in the world, and pretending that she wasn’t internally having a crisis.

Charlie sets her mug of tea down harshly on the table, “Yeah, well, don’t let it happen again,” before leaving the kitchen - and Amaya and Zari alone.

The silence stretches between them for a moment that seems far too long.

Before finally, Amaya speaks, her smile is still forced in the wake of her sister’s exit. “She’s the sort of person that grows on you.”

Zari’s laugh sounds a little forced even to her own ears, “So uh, how long is she staying for?”

(Amaya insists Zari will hardly notice Charlie being around, Zari already knows that’s a lie.)

  
  
  


3

Charlie may look like Amaya but they are nothing alike. 

Where Amaya is the heart and soul of the world, so good in every single way.

Charlie is the opposite, darkness and shadows, and a bite to each word she says.

Were in not for their identical faces Zari would have a hard time believing that they were sisters at all, let alone twins.

Zari learns a few things about Charlie very quickly.

She’s from London, the rough parts, doesn’t like to talk about it, but Zari watches one day as she picks the lock to Amaya’s apartment after forgetting her key with a small hint of awe. 

She’s in a band, or she was, because she can play the guitar - more than just Wonderwall - and is the obvious winner every time they have a karaoke night. Zari finds her band’s YouTube page one day and spends probably far too long listening to covers of songs that Charlie has done.

She’s a bartender. Works late hours, pitches in on rent, really the opposite hours of Zari. And there shouldn’t be any reason the two of them keep running into each other and yet… 

She likes girls. Brings them home. Tinder dates. Random hook ups. Zari catches Charlie with some girl in the stairwell, her shirt abandoned somewhere long before, the yellowish light of the stairwell reflecting off her bright silver bra she wears. 

(The bitter feeling in her stomach seems a bit too much like jealousy.)

  
  
  
  
  


4

She’s not usually the type to drink. 

Not  _ ever  _ really.

But it’s been a long week, and when Charlie gestures towards her in the stairwell with a bottle of Jack and asks, “Do you want to talk about it?” Well…

She should say no.

Any reasonable person would say no.

Especially since part of the reason she was feeling this way had to do with a woman that looks just similar and not enough like the one standing before her.

“Fuck it,” Zari says. A moment of impulse before pushing open the door.

It’s not the first time that Charlie’s been in her apartment, but every other time Charlie had leaned in the entryway and bombarded Zari with sharp remarks. 

This time she makes herself at home. She kicks off her boots by the door and heads into the kitchen in search of glasses and Zari can do nothing but follow her.

“Nice plant,” Charlie says, gesturing to the succulent sitting in the middle of Zari’s kitchen table.

“Amaya gave it to me,” she says. Her voice a little less excited to share that piece of information as it usually would be.

“So I’m guess you heard about-“

“Yeah,” Zari cuts her off. Not needing to hear it again. 

Amaya’s excited texts had been bad enough.

“I’m happy for them,” Zari says. 

And did a lie.

They both know it is.

She downs the drink that Charlie hands her a moment later. 

She thinks maybe that Charlie will drop it, because everything she knows about Charlie says that she’s not an  _ emotions _ sort of person. But Zari should have known better than to hope that her life would be that easy.

“So,” Charlie draws out the word, “How long have you been in love with my sister?”

Lying would be easier.

But she can’t.

“Since we first met.”

“Fucking hell.”

“She was so nice and hot and perfect and I just-“

“You think I’m hot,” Charlie cuts her off. That awful British accent somehow making her sound even more smug than Zari would ever have considered humanly possible. 

“Of course, you’re hot,” Zari says, without hesitation, “Because Amaya is hot.”

As she says the words, as the confident bravado look slips back into place on Charlie’s face, Zari swears for a second she sees something like disappointment in the other woman’s gaze, but it’s gone when she blinks a moment later.

(“You know, you’re not too terrible on the eyes either, Z.”) 

  
  
  


5

“I want you to be my maid of honor,” Amaya says.

And there’s no way Zari can say no.

No way that she would even want to.

But it doesn’t make it easier.

It doesn’t make the ache go away.

“I’d love to,” Zari says, because it’s easier than saying  _ I love you  _ the only three words she’s ever wanted to say.

The three words that were too little and too late.

(“Why did you do it?”

“Have you ever tried saying  _ no  _ to Amaya? It’s impossible.”) 

  
  
  


+1

“Can I have this dance?” 

Zari had been keeping to herself. Had smiled and played her part and pretended that there was a part of her that wasn’t aching from all of this. Pretending got a little bit easier with each passing moment. 

The truth was, it didn’t hurt as much, watching Amaya with Nate. Watching how madly in love they were. It wasn’t jealousy or regret or anything like that.

Because more often than not, now when she closes her eyes, it isn’t the fantasy of Amaya that’s there. But something else.

Someone else.

With a face almost the same, but also so different that Zari has catalogued every different between them.

That Zari could tell the apart blindfolded.

That Zari now knows exactly who she wants.

The woman who refused to wear a dress, who brought her punk rock band to play at her sister’s wedding, and who is offering Zari a hand - a promise - a chance to try something brand new.

So she takes the offered hand.

And doesn’t look back.

(“Took you long enough.”) 

  
  
  



End file.
